


A Cautionary Tale

by Memequeen_Luvs_Chocolate



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Death, Murder, Rabbits, poem, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memequeen_Luvs_Chocolate/pseuds/Memequeen_Luvs_Chocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cautionary Tale

Once upon a time there was a boy with a habit and this boy’s habit was that he liked to chase _rabbits_.  


Now his mama always told him _‘son don’t go chasing rabbits’_  but the boy with the rabbit-chasing habit didn’t listen. So he kept chasing those rabbits because those rabbits had become habits and quitting habits took much more effort than the boy saw it worth.

And then one day he caught one.

Held the rabbit in his hands and he just _stared_  because never before had it ever occurred to do anything more than _chase_  the rabbit—

But what happens when the chase is over?

And then there was a _voice_  creeping in the back of his mind, consuming his thoughts and sweeping away the light. It said _‘look in your hands boy! look, there’s your prize! are you gonna let it go are you gonna pass it by? don’t be like that boy don’t bid it goodbye! so step right up and claim that prize.’_

So the boy let his fingers trail up up higher ‘till they wrapped around it’s neck so tight made it _suffer_. And then _**‘snap!’**_  there it goes the life fades from it’s eyes—

And no longer does _just_  chasing rabbits suffice.

So the boy comes back out to chase rabbits again but he’s not just chasing them no that’s not where it ends. Cause he _catches_  the rabbits _traps_  them by their neck, then he _squashes_  the life out, steals away their last breath. ‘It’s ok’ he assures himself, ‘c’mon they’re just _rabbits_.’ Surely it’s ok if _just a few_  succumb to his habit.

But soon even _that’s_  not enough, much too _simple_  it’s grown.

The solution? _A knife is taken from his home._

It goes with him on hunts kept nearby during the chase, then blade tears through fur and gets blood in his face.

But it doesn't end there no our story still continues, for as time ventures on even _that_  feels duller than it used to. It’s just too simple, all the fun’s disappeared. As have the bunnies, there weren't nearly as many as it had previously appeared.

So he seeks out a new animal to hunt in substitution, at first finding nothing but then a winged creature flies by. And he starts hunting birds, enjoying the challenge presented by flight, then he _finally_  catches one, grips it ever-so-tight.

And smothers it forcefully ‘till the life fades from it’s eyes—

And no longer does just killing _rabbits_  suffice.

He sticks with birds for a while, takes their lives with ease. But still his habit grows _stronger_ , and he drifts on like a breeze. Other animals fall, squirrels, cats and dogs among others, all their lives stolen by his selfish desires. And he’s satisfied for a while, really truly at ease, and for the first time dares to believe his habit is _finally_  pleased.

But that satisfaction too drifts away in the breeze.

And now he’s in trouble oh he’s really done it now, because the only thing else he can kill is the one that’s not allowed.

But just like always his habit wins out.

He starts small at first, limits himself to people unknown. Travelers, passerbyers, homeless bums in back alleys, no one’s gonna miss these guys! Why should he worry? And it’s _oh-so-satisfying_ , unbelievably so. Never could he have imagined how good killing _people_  could feel, he’d’ve started ages ago! He’s so caught up in the thrill of it, so consumed by the bloodlust, the he doesn’t even _notice_  when he stops killing _just_  street bums.

Before he knows it he’s moved onto much bigger targets, from children to elderly, the limit is endless. And it’s _wonderful_  oh so _wonderful_ , the way his knife slices through their skin, the way their screams echo off the walls, their last breaths belonging to _him_.

And soon his targets have become more than just targets, for no longer is he sticking to taking the lives of strangers.  
For now they’re people he knows people he considers as friends-

Their lives are taken without a shred of penitence.

And it’s not ‘till there’s only one life left, that he begins to experience even a _drop_  of regret.

It’s the life of his mother, _he saved her for last_ , and he’s rather surprised to discover she’s not the least bit aghast. Not even when he drives his blade and lodges it within her skin, does she spare him more than a flinch.

Instead she conjures the last of her strength and of all possible things _grins_ , and lets her lips fall open with one final message that for the _briefest_ moment manages to silence the habit within.

          _ **‘What did I tell ya about chasing rabbits?’**_

And suddenly the weight of what he’s done comes crashing down like a title wave, sorrow, anger, and regret filling him to the brim. And he cries, he wails, throws the weapon away, clutches his mother’s dying body as her life fades away.

And he _screams_  in agony that _he doesn’t **want** this anymore_.

But it’s far too late to take back his mistakes, for the habit’s consumed him, and it's here to stay. That little boy from years past is long gone, he’s no more, just a shell of the former, bad to the bone.

All that remains is this _**HABIT**_ within, the humanity’s gone, just a monster in human skin.

So to the children still reading, head this cautionary tale—

_**And when your mother warns you about chasing rabbits, listen and listen well.** _


End file.
